Good News - Bad News
by Javanyet
Summary: The good news is, Freddie and Molly are figuring out how they feel about each other. The bad news is, so is the boss.
1. Good News

_Freddie and Molly, Molly's apartment, 2am_

"I hope you like the new place, even if there's no super-king-size bed or Jacuzzi."

Freddie laughed and nibbled Molly's neck. "I'll deal with it. I think the desk clerks at the hotel were sick of hearing my lame excuses anyway. I think they felt sorry for me, that's why they didn't talk to the press."

"That and they'd have lost their jobs _and_ be blackballed by all the other hotels. Discretion is the law in those places, I found that out a while ago."

"So why'd you let me come up with all those lame shit reasons for coming?"

"It was so much fun to watch you get creative, I couldn't bring myself to stop you."

"You!" he growled and rolled her under him. Then the sight of the mark on her cheek killed his mood. Left over from the wild night at the Blue Parrot, it was almost completely faded but even the ghost of it was ugly. He rolled off her again and lay on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Whatsamatta stud? Did I wear you out already?"

"Sshh, no. Just, I dunno. Just not in the mood right now, okay?"

When he leaned over and kissed her cheek, studiously avoiding the new injury, she understood. After almost a week he still was acting as if he'd slugged her himself, instead of accidentally knocking her down in his rage to get at her ex.

"C'mon, how long you gonna let this get to you? she asked.

"How long you got?" he replied gloomily. "Every time I see it I feel like a world class shit."

"That's _not_ true," she protested, then paused a beat. "You're not world class."

Exasperated by her refusal to let him wallow, he told her, "You know, you could be dangerous in stand-up, lady."

"Nah. I prefer a private audience. Easier to impress." She snuggled against him, loving his soft skin, laying her face into his neck.

"I _love_ when you do that."

"I know, _I know_. Why do you think I keep doing it?" Then she rose up and stared into his face, and words escaped her that she never would have planned.

"I love you, Freddie."

He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her down against him. "What?"

"I said 'I love you.'"

There was the mischievous smile. "I heard you. I just wanted to hear you say it again."

"Well aren't you supposed to say something, too?"

Freddie made a face as if he were trying to guess. "Like… 'line forms to the right'?"

"_Aargh_, you make me _crazy_." She tried to push away from him but he was too strong for her.

"Well that's why you keep inviting me back, isn't it? Unless you're after a _raise_."

She managed to break from his embrace and scrooched up on the far side of the bed.

"Aw, come on," he cajoled, "for somebody who works with a sitcom you have _no_ sense of humor."

"Really? You just said I'd be dangerous in stand-up."

"Well your lie-down humor leaves something to be desired." He moved up close behind her and purred in her ear, "Come on _besita_, lemme have a smile."

"Piss off."

"_Besiiiiitaaaa_," he sang, "_bonita_, _chiquita_, _querida_, smile for me and I'll tell you what you wanna hear."

She pivoted in his arms, eyes bright with anticipation.

"You mean I got a _raise_?" She turned away again, but had run out of bed so was stuck at the edge, with Freddie plastered right behind her.

"Ha, ha." He jostled her. "Come on, don't be like that." Silence. "Okay, you've driven me to it." He pressed his mouth against her ear. "I love you right back, you stubborn broad."

"Oh isn't _that_ sweet!" she told him over her shoulder.

"What? You want flowers? I've _given_ you flowers. Okay, one flower, on your birthday. You want dancing? I've _danced_ with you. In fact that's how we got into this mess in the first place, remember? You want sweet talk? C'mere." He pulled them both back to the middle of the bed and pinned her on her back so she couldn't pull away. "I want you, I need you, I _love_ you. All that Elvis shit. The world would end without you, I would be wrecked, ruined, shattered. I'd have to sort my own mail, deal with my own fan clubs, plan my own schedule without you!" She was fighting to hold back a smile. "Aha! I see the corners of that delicious mouth turn up _just a little_." He kissed each corner of her mouth. "Come on, you don't want to crush the developing ego of a poor hardworking _kid_ do you? You might warp me for life."

"Your ego is developing just fine, 'kid', and I believe you have been warped since _birth_. But hey, why nit pick. Kiss me again, and I'm yours for life."

"Sounds like a deal…" and he lowered his mouth to hers, velvet tongue, soft mustache brushing her lips, arms wound around under her. "Of course, I have more life left than you do…" Before she could protest he ravished her with more kisses and caresses.

"Geez Carlito," she sighed, "you get the mood back quick, thank God."

"Mmm, I know you just want me for _one thing_…" he groaned, still joking even as he sank into her velvet warmth, "lucky me!"

* * *

Something on her back reached through the fog. A gentle hand, wandering up and down from her shoulders to her hip, long fingers reaching to stroke her skin. It felt so good, over and over.

"Mmm, nice," she managed to mumble around the pillow.

Then there was an impossibly soft mouth wandering here and there, the tickling brush of his mustache, velvet tongue leaving a little snail trail to mark its progress. When he reached the swell of her hip just above her ass, teeth gripped lightly.

"Oh, mama, sweet and tender," he murmured against her.

"Cannibal," she accused. He crawled up to face her.

"I love you, _bonita_, okay? I love you. I've always loved you, you knew that, didn't you, you always knew."

Molly smiled, but suddenly found herself clinging to Freddie as if she were drowning, terrified that this might be some dream born of the old pain and fear, when she had what she'd always needed in a dream, but it was gone when she woke up. She used to dream of someone like Freddie but always woke up to Reggie.

Freddie felt the tension humming in her. "What's wrong, _querida?_" he asked her.

"I used to dream of somebody gentle, someone who made me feel safe, who never hurt me, but when I woke up it was always _him_, and I was so scared and it always broke my heart to wake up."

A frown furrowed Freddie's brow, and he looked so much older to her in that moment, so much wiser than she was right now.

"Hey, I'm right here and you're awake." He stroked her face, bruise and all, with long careful fingers, moving aside some stray tangles of hair, and replaced the frown on his face with the smile he knew she loved. "I'm too young and too cocky and I may not know all you need but I'll never hurt you, never, I'll treat you gentle, always. I want you to find who you were, that strong brave lady you were before I knew you, and never lose her again."

She couldn't stop trembling until a few minutes passed. She didn't want to upset him, but she was so relieved he was still there and hadn't evaporated with when she woke up. She _did_ feel strong with him, he helped her believe she could be all the things he said, the things he'd only heard about but never knew.

"I won't go nuts again like I did that night last week," Freddie promised, "I'll never do that again I swear. You're right, Wendy's right, it's your life and not mine, I'll be here for you but I'll stay out of the past. See, I'm learning fast, right?"

He smiled that kid smile of his, and as always it was contagious and Molly smiled right back at him.


	2. Bad News

When Jimmy called Molly into his office for a meeting a couple weeks later, she thought it was just to ask about her new place. After all, he'd put her up at that hotel for longer than she felt comfortable doing, so he probably wanted to know she was settled in her own place. Sure enough, he asked her about the new apartment and if she felt safe there, if Reggie had bothered her. The answer was no, since the incident at the Blue Parrot he'd been more than scarce. The cops probably put a scare into him once they saw the protection order. This covered, she expected some business, but he looked a little awkward before speaking again.

"Molly, we gotta talk about something. I'm not quite sure about how to start, so I'll just jump in. It's come to my attention that your relationship with Freddie might have moved, uh, beyond business. Beyond friendship, even. I need to ask you if that's true."

A cold knot twisted in her stomach. It couldn't be the press. And Jack, well he was pretty close to Freddie so by now he'd probably guessed, but he wouldn't have said anything. Shit, where did Jimmy _get _this? Maybe he was bluffing. "I don't know what you mean, boss." Wrong answer.

"Molly, we go back a few years. I've been pretty good to you, right, or I wouldn't have done what I've done to help you get away from that pig you were with. Do don't play me, okay? I deserve better. Just know that somebody tipped me that things had taken a turn with Freddie, and for a number of reasons I need to know how far."

She sighed, shifted in her chair, ran her hands over her face. "So how long ago did this come to your 'attention'?"

"A couple days after the Emmy's."

She was aghast. "And you waited this long?"

"Frankly, I wasn't sure it was true. Your work, and Freddie's, certainly seems to be unaffected. But if it _were_ true, I figured I'd give it some time to burn itself out before I talked to you. Has it?"

"'Burned itself out'? You said you weren't even sure it was _true_."

Komack gestured toward her. "The look on your face says it all, Molly. Let's just deal with this like adults and professionals, okay?"

Not good enough. "Before we do that, I wanna know who 'tipped' you. Not the press, and only two other people even know about it, and one of _them_ has never even met you."

"Three other people," he corrected. "Demond saw you together at the Emmy after party. He figured I should know."

"Huh? Demond as in Wilson? _Sanford's_ Demond?" She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "'Figured you should know', right. Demond Grabass Wilson is now the morals officer? What the hell was he thinking?"

"Look he knows that Freddie is rising fast, but he doesn't know you that well, and he figured if there was anything shady going on that could affect him badly I should know. You know, if someone was taking advantage."

"Well, gee, I guess I'm busted," Molly sneered, "I've been taking advantage of your new star every way I can. I've worked double time, kept him on schedule, and organized his fan clubs. What a _conniving_ bitch I am, huh?" She wanted him to see she was insulted by the mere suggestion, but could see Jimmy wasn't going to take the bait. She knew by now, he wasn't the arguing type. "I'm sorry, boss, but I feel like I've been spied on." _Might as well skip the point completely, why not?_ she thought.

Komack shook his head and offered mildly, "Like I said, he doesn't know you. So I let it ride. But I've noticed other things. Like the groupies that still hang out around the dressing room door, but don't get invited in much anymore. Like Freddie being a little more focused, less party-animal. Like no more raggedy red-eye mornings."

"And this had you _worried_?"

Again the mild shake of his head. "It got my attention is all. And when I heard about the brawl at that club, when Freddie went apeshit over your ex, it got _more_ of my attention. I tried to call him next morning but he wasn't at home. I called the hotel but you weren't answering. Two plus two, Molly." She didn't answer. "So it's true, then. You and Freddie are sleeping together."

"Jesus Jimmy, you make me sound like one of those groupies."

"That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Okay, yeah. Freddie and me, our relationship has, uh, gone further than it's been before."

It was Jimmy's turn to sigh. Molly started to feel a little panicky.

"Look I know this wasn't supposed to happen. We didn't plan it. For Christsake, I've been working with him for two and a half years, you _know_ the work I've done. Nobody can keep him in shape like I have, I've dotted every i and crossed every t, kept every date, organized every appearance. and you just said the work hasn't suffered. Jimmy I have _never_ stayed over at his place; we have never, well, we've _never _at his place_,_ never even laid a hand on each other, except as friends, like we always have. Business is business, and we keep the _other_ to ourselves. I swear to God, boss, we have ironclad _rules _about that."

For the first time, he looked like he was doubting her.

"He agreed to all that, to 'ironclad rules'? A twenty-three year old hot new star with girls chasing him home, and everywhere else, every night? He _agreed_ to all that?"

"Yes he did. Because he also agreed that _I_ have the most to lose. It could blow my career out of the water if it got out, but it would only reinforce his hot stuff reputation, you know? He understands, he agrees."

Jimmy looked steadily at her without speaking. She got more agitated.

"Please, I _need_ this job, especially now. I'm _this close _to getting my life back together for the first time since before I ever came here. And I don't mean with Freddie."

It was Komack's turn to look insulted. "Come on Molly, you know me better than that. I'd never let you go because of something like this, especially since you've been so, ah, careful about it. But I could pull you out of Freddie's staff and send you somewhere else, like working with one of the Kotter guys, or maybe send you to Promotion. God knows you're good at that stuff."

"C'mon, you know nobody can back up Freddie like me. I've been there almost since the beginning. Nobody _knows_ him like me. We work together like one piece, boss, you know that."

"Well _that's_ obvious."

It was no use trying to appeal to Jimmy's good nature, however deep and generous it was. This was business, so Molly took the business route.

"Okay, look," she promised, "I don't wanna jeopardize Freddie's career, I mean it. If the alternative is to move me, I _swear_ I'll never touch him again, I won't let him touch _me_. I swear to God. But if you split us up business-wise I'm scared it's all gonna go south. He's _used_ to me, and he's young, and stubborn. He depends on me as somebody that knows him inside out, and he trusts me. I say go, he says 'Okay, where?'. I say sign, he says 'Okay, how many?'. I don't know that he'd do that with somebody new. Hell, when I first got here he tried overtime to play me, and it just didn't work. But it _might_ work on someone else, and you don't want that do you?"

"That sounds like coercion."

"_No_, dammit. You know _me_ better than that. You have my word we go back to friends and coworkers if you say the word. But please don't pull me off his staff. I'm not bragging about how great I am, I'm just being realistic. The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt Freddie's future."

Komack thought for a long minute. "Okay, okay, I have to admit you're right about some of it. And an improvement in Freddie's focus and him settling down like he seems to be _isn't _a reason for me to get all worked up. But shit, Molly, the _press_! I should think of all people _you_ know what would happen if this got outside or even around the studio?"

"Yeah I do," Molly assured him. "And like I said, I have all that to lose and he would just be the hot young guy doing the older woman. It wouldn't hurt him. Not professionally anyway."

Nobody said anything for a minute or two, then Komack ventured with some hesitation, "It's probably none of my business, but are you in love with him?"

"I've loved him for a long time, Jimmy. It's part of our friendship, and he's the same way. It's hard to explain, but you know how it can go when people work this close together and have to deal with each other every day, every detail. Sometimes you start to see things in each other, and it's hard to ignore them."

"I suppose that's an answer."

Molly's anger returned in a rush. "So Demond the Morals Minister, who else is he shooting his mouth off to? I haven't heard any rumblings anywhere."

Jimmy seemed none to happy about the subject himself.

"Nobody, that's who. I told him he'd better keep his mouth shut whether it was true or not, and reminded him that Red Foxx is the big draw on Sanford. Demond doesn't have the juice to cross me, not if wants to advance his career."

"Good, thanks. Have you talked to Freddie about this?"

Jimmy almost laughed out loud. "I figured I'd let cooler and more mature heads prevail, that is if you don't mind trying to keep him that way."

The tension was draining away from Molly, as she realized this wasn't an ambush. It wasn't even a threat, not really.

"Look, I know you don't really understand this, boss. But you've seen changes in Freddie, and so have I. I'm not taking all the credit. But I've also seen changes in _me_. You know how beaten down I was. He listened, he understood most of it, he's helping me find myself again, the self you guys never met. Don't ask me how, or why it's happening now, because I don't know. Christ, he's a _kid_. You think I don't know that? But why ask why… whatever is happening between us seems to be good for us both. It's just a little strange to some people."

"'Just a little,'" he echoed with a touch of irony, then gestured in resignation. "Okay, Moll, I'm not the minister of morality. Neither is Demond. If you can keep the lid on this like you've done so far, and damned if I know how you've done it, we won't mention it again. But if things start to spin out, leak out, or blow out, it's hands off Freddie in all respects. Can you agree to that?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "Yes. And you know you can trust me. You've seen the hard decisions I've had to make, and you know I can make more."

Molly reached across the desk, and she and Jimmy shook hands on it.

"You _are_ gonna tell Freddie all this, right?"

"He'll probably take it better from me than you, for sure. I won't tell him who told you though. Maturity and understanding only go so far, you know? He'd kick Demond's ass from here to Chicago."

Jimmy shook his head, and this time he did laugh. "I gotta say I do admire your guts. Not every 'grown' woman could handle a kid that age, or somebody as wild as Freddie. Let's hope what you got going on is as strong as you think, and I don't just mean the 'obvious.'"

"You and me both." She got up and shook Jimmy's hand again.

"Hey I think I've earned more than a handshake, lady," he chided, and pulled her into a hug. He ushered her to the door and added, "Glad to hear you're doing well in your new digs. And if that goon Reggie bothers you again you let me know and I'll sic the studio lawyers on him."

* * *

Molly went down to the soundstage. The audience was just leaving, the requisite number of young women hanging around Freddie's dressing room door. She excused herself to get by them, ignoring their glares, and knocked on the door.

"Freddie? You almost ready to go?"

His voice was muffled by the closed door. "Just about, come on in."

Not hearing him clearly, she opened the door a crack, and saw the back of a petite blonde. They were at opposite ends of the small room, no quick jumps apart, but still she was a little shaken.

"Oh, 'scuse me," she retreated in a hurry with a knot in her stomach.

"No, wait, c'mere!" Freddie called after her. He reached through the door and pulled her back in, nodding to the girls outside. "_Hola_, ladies."

Once inside Freddie introduced the blonde, who Molly could now see was very young, as Ruth Watson, from Baltimore. President of the newest Freddie Prinze fan club.

"I was just giving her your name and the office number." He took Molly's arm and told Ruth, "This lady keeps me all together, no lie. You got a club, get in touch with her and she'll set you up with whatever you need."

Ruth shook Molly's hand, still looking star-struck at Freddie. "Hi nice to meet you. I'll be in touch."

"Did she get an autographed photo, Freddie?" Molly just managed to keep the edge out of her voice.

"Yeah, it's in her notebook."

"Okay, Ruth, I look forward to hearing from you. Are you in L.A. for long?"

"Just a few more days."

"Well maybe you'd like to come by the office, and I can give you some start-up stuff-in-hand, okay?"

"Sure!" She knew, obviously, that Molly's office was in Freddie's apartment. Freddie looked supremely uncomfortable.

"What about Thursday, then," he told them, "I'll be taping here and won't be around to bother you."

"That'll work," Molly told him. Ruth looked as profoundly disappointed as Freddie looked relieved. "Okay, here's my card. How about, uh, one o'clock? Does that work?"

"Sure. Thanks." Ruth was still staring at Freddie as she left.

As the door shut Freddie gave Molly a monstrous hug. "Thank you thank you _thank you_. Jack brought her to the door, I swear he has it in for me…"

She looked at him closely and figured he was telling the truth, he looked so relieved. But he caught the hesitation.

"What, you think I'm ordering in little girls? She's only about sixteen, for Christsake. Man I got all the _woman_ I can handle now and I'll take out an ad in Variety to say so."

Despite the friendly way things had worked out with her boss, things were whirling like a Mixmaster in Molly's head and gut.

"Th'fuck you will," she told him edgily. "Let's go back to the office, we gotta talk. Jimmy called me into a meeting today, and it wasn't about personal appearances. At least not public ones."

Freddie gulped. They exited the dressing room and he paused as usual to charm and sign and disappoint the ones who figured they had a shot.

Freddie managed not to ask questions on the drive back to his place, though Molly knew it must be killing him. Once they got in the door she led him into the office and they sat on the sofa.

"Okay Molly I am gonna sit here and listen and you are gonna tell me everything, right?"

So she did. She lied like a lawyer when he asked who had spilled it to Jimmy. "He wouldn't tell me. He figured you'd kill whoever it was." She told Freddie about the meeting bit by bit, and let him absorb. "Well it sounds like he took it pretty well," Freddie said hopefully.

"Sort of. But I made a deal with him, and I made it for _both_ of us, and you have gotta accept it or we're screwed."

He didn't look happy but he kept his mouth shut, and let her continue.

"I promised Jimmy that if our 'news' gets out, even to the rest of the studio, which means it'll be in the press in a heartbeat, that it'll be hands-off for us from then on. That's the deal I cut so he won't pull me from the show and leave you with some other assistant."

"Why the hell did you promise that?"

"Because it's more important for me to keep you together than to keep _us_ together. And if we go back to the way it was all we've lost is, well, you know."

"Yeah I know. And I don't like it. But I guess there's not many ways to turn, are there?"

"No. I'm lucky he gave me _one._ I don't mind telling you I almost puked when he told me he knew."

Freddie's face turned hard. "I'd like to get my hands on the asshole who shot his or her mouth off. Where did he say they saw us?"

"At the Emmy after party, Mr. 'Kiss-Me-Pretty'." She couldn't help smiling. "Well there _were_ hundreds of people there, Carlito. Bound to be somebody who knew us and had loose lips."

After sighing in resigned agreement, he gave her the warm eyes and sly smile as if something had just occurred to him.

"Mmm, loose lips sound good to me..." He leaned forward, but Molly pushed him away.

"Uh-uh, _hot_ lips. Don't forget we're in Chico's house."

"Well then let's get the hell back to _bonita_'s place, huh? We got some serious ships to sink."

"Hang on a minute," Molly called to him, and he stopped at the front door. "Are you sure you're okay with this? Because I meant what I said. If we can't keep this quiet, we're done except for business."

"_Chica_..." Freddie smiled and reached an arm around her to pull her out the door with him. "I'm an actor, and you're my full service publicity and press whiz."

"Yeah, so?"

"So we both are professional liars. We'll fool 'em all!"


End file.
